Liar
by Hannah Rubix
Summary: To be loved and loving did not mean the same thing, and Brooke Davis was very familiar with that saying. But this time, maybe just once they were the same. Was it too late to believe that he wasn't lying? A BL oneshot, season 3.


Rate and Review please, lvoes! I love my Brucas, so it was time for a sad little season 3 oneshot. It's slightly AU, but it follows the school shooting and the same sort of thing.

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**Liar**

Never once had anyone stopped to think and consider her feelings. She was considered independent, strong and brave. So never once did someone try to take care of her. She was a rare breed of woman, one who knew how to take care of herself. It was a defense mechanism that she had learned years ago. If people, including her parents, didn't take care of her, there was no way she would grovel and beg for attention. She learned to take care of herself, and to be considered independent and cruel so no one got close. It wasn't just that she was afraid of getting hurt, but she didn't want to hurt **anyone** the way she had been hurt. She didn't want to be the cause of someone's heartbreak; she didn't want to be the cause of hurting someone so deeply that they could never trust again. She didn't want anyone to experience those feelings like she felt them. She wouldn't wish that upon her worst enemy; hell, she wouldn't even wish it upon the man who broke her heart.

It wasn't supposed to be like that. Brooke honestly thought that she could be the heartbreaker; the Queen Bee with the perfect boyfriend. But she was quick to realize there was no such thing as the perfect guy. So she resorted to sleeping with some good guys. And some not so good guys. But it didn't matter, because **she** was in control. If she didn't want him to move so slowly, if she wanted him out of her bed, then he would go. And she would feel powerful, invincible, and she would crave more attention, more lust. Brooke knew how guys looked at her. She was a cheap lay, a party girl. While the other cheerleaders had boyfriends who played basketball, football, hell, even soccer, she had 'friends'. If you could even call them that. She slept with them once and then she would let them go. Brooke Davis didn't get involved with guys because guys didn't want to get involved with her. She was a slut, that was no secret, but she was popular, so there was no shame in sleeping with Brooke Davis as long as you weren't her.

But sometimes, a guy would be nice to her and she would like him. She would date him for awhile until she found him cheating on her. It never hurt because she never let the guy in anyways. She knew all these guys, and they would always end up with sleeping with a friend of hers or a foe. But it didn't matter much because the next night she would go partying, drinking, and find the cutest guy there who wanted her. Who wouldn't have wanted to sleep with **her**,Brooke Davis? She was pretty, sexy, quiet, popular, slutty, silly; an all around easy lay. No one cared about her feelings; basically, according to everyone, she had no emotions. At least not up until **he **showed up.

It was everything she had hoped for. Love at first sight, a boy who didn't think less of her because of her reputation. He was her white knight; her knight in shining armor. He could save her from the soul sucking loneliness she had been feeling. At first she just thought he looked good, nice and innocent. But slowly, she found herself feeling deeper for him than she thought she could. And, for a while, she thought he was falling for her too. She managed to look past her own self consciousness and understand that maybe, just **maybe** he wanted to be with her too. He kissed her; he murmured things in her ears as she was slowly falling asleep. He told her he loved her; he told her there was no one else for him.

But he lied. He lied just like everyone else in her life did. He lied to her in the cruelest way possible, but he wasn't the only one. Her **best** friend took part in this horrible lie. Her best friend, the only one she could trust. The one who cried on her shoulder, and in turn, had comforted Brooke. She could never trust, could never **love **someone as much as she loved Peyton. The two were like sisters, they had a bond. Brooke thought that bond couldn't be broken; that neither of them would ever, **ever** even go close to hurting the other. Brooke comforted Peyton when her mother died; in turn, Peyton stayed with Brooke when Brooke's parents were gone. They had foolishly put their trust and love into each other; they were like sisters. But they never could be sisters. Peyton took too much and never gave any back. What used to be books and toys turned into friends and boys. Peyton wanted it all; she wanted all what Brooke could give to her, willingly or not. And everyone knew that Peyton usually **always** got what she wanted.

But her best friend had never escalated to stealing a **boy**. A living, breathing human being. Peyton could make it justifiable, saying that Lucas had feelings for her even before his relationship with Brooke, or that Brooke was the whore, the one who had taken the boy from under **her** best friend's nose. But all Brooke cared about was that the person had chosen her. He had told her he loved her, she fell for him. Finally someone wanted her more than the girl with the golden locks and the broken smile. And Lucas didn't just want Brooke for her body, or at least that was what she used to think. She thought he admired her brains, her energy, and her **heart**. But their relationship just turned out to be one long, fake **lie**. A lie just like everything he had ever told her.

That day when she found out Lucas was cheating on her with Peyton; she hadn't just lost a boyfriend and a best friend. She had lost a lover and a sister. All Brooke wanted was to be liked, to be **loved**. But all she got out of that deal was a crummy ex boyfriend and an angry ex best friend. Maybe she shouldn't have fallen so hard, so fast, but she liked Lucas. She liked him more than she had ever liked a guy before. But Peyton took that away. A more rational part of Brooke told her that Brooke had a part in her own heartbreak, but the selfish part blamed it all on them. After all, if Peyton and Lucas weren't sleeping together or whatever they were doing, Brooke would still be giddy and in love. After Lucas broke up with her, she felt more alone than she ever had. She basically already had no parents, but now she had no P. Sawyer. No one to tease or to laugh with, no one to listen while she was angry and comfort her when she cried. Brooke was totally alone.

She frowned at the sight in front of her. She had let her senses guide her wherever, but she had never thought she would end up **here**. The net was still, and there was no one in the court, so Brooke took that opportunity to lie down on the hard ground of the Rivercourt. She didn't usually come here, but it seemed appropriate. This was where Luke, Nathan, hell, even Haley and Mouth came to think. It seemed right that she should get acquainted with this place too, if she wanted to understand Luke a little better. But she probably wouldn't need to. The way things have been between them, she would have been surprised if he and Peyton weren't sleeping together. It wasn't so much that things weren't going well **between** Brooke and Lucas; it just seemed that her boyfriend ran off to Peyton anytime she needed something.

That was how Brooke knew he lied again. He said that he would save her, not just Karen, not just **Peyton**, but he would try and save Brooke too. But she guessed he couldn't save her from something he couldn't see. Each time he got a call from Peyton, each time he went to go and be **with** Peyton, the hole in her heart dug itself a little deeper. The fear of being alone again was slowly killing her, but Lucas didn't do anything about it. Maybe he couldn't see the spark fade from her eyes whenever Peyton called; maybe he couldn't see her dimples disappear whenever someone left, even if they were just going shopping. Brooke didn't hate Peyton; on the contrary, she felt like they were almost sisters again. She was just scared that one day, when she walked into Luke's room, his computer and webcam would be on and she would find the familiar blond boy holding onto the girl with the Goldilocks.

It didn't help that Peyton was so much prettier, and so much more open than Brooke was. Almost every day she would subconsciously compare her straight brown locks to her best friend's deep gold tresses and her own chocolate eyes to her friend's oceanic peepers. Was it true? Did guys really prefer cute blonds to the ever common brunettes? Brooke was already a little self conscious about her hips, her weight, and her generous amount of cleavage. It didn't help that Peyton had a tiny waist, ballerina like curves, and a chest that didn't seem to overtake whatever she was wearing. Brooke knew a lot of guys appreciated her body, but how many more would appreciate Peyton's if she were as easy as Brooke? Sometimes, she felt that if Peyton were a little happier, Brooke wouldn't be the most popular girl. But she loved her P. Sawyer and didn't want to lose her again.

Laying here, in the Rivercourt, made her wonder why **she** was so special. Why did girls want to be her and guys want to have her? She wasn't particularly nice or pretty, she wasn't one of those girls who read every single magazine. She only read a few. If you looked deep enough into Brooke Penelope Davis, you would find a lonely, breaking little girl. Being in love wasn't the same as being loved, just like having a boyfriend didn't mean you were getting married. Both those sayings were true to her. She wondered why she was so unhappy when she had Luke now. But then she realized that she could slowly feel him slipping away from her, slowly pushing her away. Now she was just waiting until the final betrayal was complete. **She** was not pushing him away, but rather he was her. All Brooke wanted was to be happy and she was…for a little while. She was until Jake broke up with Peyton, until Peyton got shot.

That was one of the other things that was eating at her. Brooke had left her best friend, her **best friend**, bleeding in the hallway. She should've checked to see if P. Sawyer was following her, but she was scared. Was it wrong to be so scared that you didn't check to see if one of the people you cared most about was safe? Of course it was. It didn't help that Lucas was the one to find and rescue Peyton. A small, selfish part of Brooke had wanted to hold Luke back, to beg him not to go into the school and put himself in danger. The selfish part of her wondered what had really happened between Peyton and Luke in the library, because she sure as hell knew that they weren't telling her the truth. And now Lucas was drifting farther and farther away from her.

All she wanted was for him to love her and when he did, she was beyond happy. But Peyton was slowly driving a wedge between them, a wedge that was causing Lucas to close up and stop letting Brooke in. Rivercourt, this was **their **place, her and Lucas's. That gave Brooke some sort of hope that maybe fate had brought her here, and that maybe, just **maybe**, Luke would realize all over again that Brooke was the one for him, not Peyton. But she was starting to feel that the latter wasn't true, that he was falling for her best friend all over again. He loved Brooke and she loved him back. It should've been simple, but it wasn't. What had gone wrong?

"Pretty Girl." His voice came pretty much out of no where, disturbing Brooke from her private thoughts. Staying silent for a moment, she sat up and brought her knees right up to her chest, holding back so she wouldn't begin rocking back and forth. She bit her lip and then smiled at him. Maybe this was fate; maybe he had come to see her tonight to tell her that he loved her and that he wanted them to be together forever. She willed herself to believe this, because hope was almost all she had anymore.

"Hey Boyfriend," she replied lightly, flashing him a softer version of her ever familiar dimpled grin. Every time she glanced at him, she felt as though a hot poker was piercing her heart. He looked so achingly familiar, so desirably lovable that it took most for her previous determination to hold herself back from smoothing his messy blond hair, from gazing into those clear blue eyes, from kissing his chapped pink lips, from wrapping herself around him…

"I've been looking for you, you know." Brooke felt her smile grow a bit as he sat down next to her and put his arm around her. She wanted to trust him, she wanted to believe that Peyton didn't matter to him anymore, but she couldn't stop thinking about how much she would miss this when her best friend finally took her boyfriend again.

"Really? Cause I've been- Oh crap!" She felt her cheeks, blushing a beet red color before looking at her feet. "I am so sorry, I just came here to think and I lost track of time and… I totally forgot that we were supposed to meet at Karen's." She smacked herself on the head not only for dramatic and comical effect, but because she actually deserved it. If Peyton was going to steal Luke away from her again, she was not going to let him go without a fight! What was she thinking, whining and moping when she had the opportunity to be with her boyfriend? She should be fighting for her boy, **her** Lucas instead of brooding over what might happen.

"I was sitting there, wondering where you could be and wondering who you stood me up for, so I decided to come down here, and here you are!" His voice was teasing, but Brooke couldn't help but feel bad that she had left him waiting for her.

"How about I make it up to you?" Her voice rasped in the familiar way, the way she knew he could resist. Before she had time to react, Luke's lips were hungrily pressed against hers, the silent kiss seeming to be more than just an apology for missing a date. As soon as Brooke fully registered his mouth on hers, she wrapped her arms around him, slowly pulling herself onto his lap. She pulled back for a moment, gasping for air before she pushed her lips right back on to Lucas's.

There was something almost possessive of the way he was kissing her, but she enjoyed it. There was so much of this that she had missed since the shooting, letting Luke grieve as long as he needed to. But now she felt a desire, a selfish need to hold his lips against hers for as long as she could. He was her drug, and she needed her fix. She had become addicted to soon, and this feeling was new territory. His mouth was moving against hers hungrily, as though he was drowning and only she could save him. As if he wanted to memorize every little detail about her. Their tongues entertained as she straddled him, she ran her fingers through his thick hair before finally pulling away and leaning her forehead against his.

"That was…that was one hell of an apology." He panted, his mouth red from the contact of her lipstick covered lips. She smiled for a moment before moving out of his lap and cuddling carefully in his warm arms. His scent was familiar and soothing, calming the shivering desire that her body was quaking from moments before.

"You're scared." It wasn't a question or a guess; it was simply a statement that came out of her mouth. But Brooke knew it was true, she could feel it in his smoldering kisses. She could see it in his gentle blue eyes; she could see he needed help. He may have been too ashamed, too embarrassed to admit it, but fear shone in the center of them. The fear was subdued, but it was still there. "You know I love you, right?" She could practically feel his trembling; she could almost sense that he was torn between confessing it all to her or hiding it. She rested her head in the small nook in between his chin and collarbone, waiting for an answer.

"I-I…" Brooke now completely felt him tremble and before he had time to react, she wrapped him up in her arms and held him. He grabbed onto her tightly as though she was a life preserver and he was slipping away from everything else. She felt him shudder in her arms, but that only inspired to hold him tighter.

"Luke, you can tell me anything. You know that. Just…let me in. If you're hurting, let me help you make it better. We're in this together. I love you, Broody, but I need your help so that I can rescue you." She spoke those words because those were the words she had always wanted him to say to her, to make her loneliness disappear. But Luke's pain meant so much more to her than her own did, she couldn't let him be like this.

"It-it's Keith. I miss him so much, an-and it's my fault. It's my fault that he's gone; it's my fault Jimmy Edwards went into the school with a gun. Even my mom thinks it's my fault th-that K-Keith got shot. I just wish I could take it back, I-I wish that I ha-h-had never saved Dan from the fire. I wish I hadn't stopped talking to Jimmy, I wish I could redo these last two years." His voice came out ragged and her heart broke a little more to see him like this. She gritted her teeth, her own eyes watering. How dare Karen tell her son that it was **his** fault that his uncle, practically is father was dead.

"Lucas, look at me." She gently used her porcelain hand to grab his chin and turn his face upwards. His cheeks were covered in tears, his blue eyes glinting in fear and confusion, in horror and grief. "None of that was your fault. You honestly think that if you hadn't saved Dan that Keith wouldn't have gone in there anyways? Your uncle was a great guy, and he went into our school to save lives, not because his perverted little brother told him to."

"As for Jimmy, he might not have taken a gun to school if you were still friends, but he might have still done it. He wouldn't have been considered popular even if you and Mouth were his friends, people would still teat him badly because that's just how people are. They judge on looks, not personality. If you went back to the beginning of these two years and changed things, think of all the great stuff you would miss out on. Sure, you made some mistakes but who doesn't? I've made millions of mistakes, but I wouldn't change my life for the world. Fate made this happen, and no matter what, you've got to keep going. I believe in you, and so would Keith. In fact, I bet right now in heaven or wherever they are, Keith and Jimmy are watching you and telling you to let it go. To let life go on. And that none of this was your fault."

Finally out of words, Brooke leaned her head against his back as he hugged her again. Luke finally looked up, wiped his eyes, and smiled at her. "Thank you Brooke. I don't know what I'd do without you. You, Cheery, mean everything to me. I love you so much that I can't seem to argue with you or refuse or anything, because everything you said meant so much-" Before he could continue, she kissed him softly before leaning back.

"Luke, you don't have to explain yourself to me. Just…let me in more often. Let me help you, let **me** save you. But now, I think it's time for a distraction." She got up before he could kiss her again, smirking lightly. "Strip basketball, in the words of Rachel. Each shot you make, I take off a piece of clothing."

Lucas grinned and she felt instantly proud that she had put that smile back on his face. He scrambled to get up, earning a loose giggle from Brooke before he grabbed a basketball and effortlessly threw it through the hoop. "Crap." She rolled her eyes and stripped off her top, giving him a clear view of her creamy skin and toned stomach leading up to her lacy black bra with the small bow in the middle.

"Pretty," Luke muttered appreciatively before concentrating on the basket and then shooting the ball in. Over the course of the next few minutes, Brooke lost each of her shoes, each of her socks (to which he protested that those didn't count, but she silenced him with a saucy wink), and her black pants. Lucas had only lost his shirt, his socks, and his shoes.

"Jesus, I didn't think you were that good." She pouted, her ripe lip protruding as he chuckled at her childish expression before swishing the ball quickly through the hoop and then looking at her cockily.

"Come on Brooke, hurry up." He couldn't wipe the smirk off his face, nor the boasting edge in his voice. Either way, whether she removed her black bra or racy underwear, he was still getting a nice show. Brooke knew that, and took a moment to decide either how she was getting out of this one, or which piece of clothing to take off.

"You know Broody, you're more of a butt guy, so…" She snapped the strap of her bra before quirking an eyebrow. "Ready?" She taunted, her voice confident and almost purring. She saw him gulp, but that wasn't the only display of his appreciation for her perky chest. She slowly undid the clasp of her bra, not taking it fully off yet.

"As I'll ever b-" Luke was interrupted by the harsh ring of his cell phone. Brooke nodded, the okay for him to pick it up. She could hear the mutterings of a conversation, including the words 'Why me?', 'where are you?', and 'what's wrong **now**?'. Finally, he turned back to her and smiled at her apologetically. "That was Peyton. Apparently, her and Bevin were at an 'out of control' party and they both got wasted, so when the cops came, they couldn't get into a car. She needs someone to bail her out."

"Do you want me to come?" That sentence was her immediate reaction, but Brooke had also wanted to grab is arm and tell him to stay with her, that they could get Peyton in the morning.

"No, I'll be fine." When he saw the sunken expression on her face, he was quick to realize his mistake. "I think I just need to deal with her on my own. She's been pretty crazy lately, with the parties and after the shooting and all, so I think that she really just needs to get her worries off her chest. I was there with her, so I think she'll open up more if it's just me. B-but if you really want to…"

"No, you're right Boyfriend. Go, she needs you more than I do." That wasn't the truth, but if Brooke was feeling better, Peyton deserved the same chance. "Seriously, tell her I'm going to kick her ass tomorrow morning though." She shot him a trademark dimpled grin before turning around and doing up her bra before sliding her clothes back on.

"Aw, and I was hoping for the grand finale of you little show," Luke teased, his blue eyes shining. He walked over to her and hugged her for a moment before kissing her on the forehead. "Bye Pretty Girl."

Of course. That was all she was ever going to be to him, his Pretty Girl. Not girlfriend, not love, not even honey. No matter what she did or what she said, she wouldn't be Peyton or Anna. She would just be his Pretty Girl.


End file.
